


Maybe I Wanna Do What Bunnies Do With You

by shakespeareishq



Series: The November Armada [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Come Marking, M/M, Morning Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 13:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2548577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shakespeareishq/pseuds/shakespeareishq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has a list...</p><p>(Boyd is not on that list)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe I Wanna Do What Bunnies Do With You

**Author's Note:**

> Pure self-indulgent PWP 
> 
> Title from the song You and I

Stiles has a list.

It’s not a list he’s exactly _proud of,_ but it’s his all the same. It’s the list, in order from most to least likely, of pack members he’s probably going to wake up naked with one day.

Peter is, unsurprisingly to anyone who’s spent more than five minutes observing them together, at the top of the list. Followed closely by Scott&Allison. Both of them. Then Derek and Isaac and Chris, Malia, Kira, Erica, and finally Lydia because he’s not stupid enough to think he’d get that lucky ever in his life.

But Boyd? Boyd is not even _on the list_ , Stiles tells his traitorous body. Boyd doesn’t like Stiles. Not even in a ‘hate sex’ way like Derek doesn’t like him, just in an ‘I barely notice you exist at all’ way. So what on earth is he doing pressed up against the stoic werewolf at, oh, 6am trying to ignore his throbbing head?

The warm hand at his waist slides up deliciously—don’t think like that!—to settle across Stiles’ forehead, and then his headache recedes as Boyd takes his pain. Huh.

“Better?” Boyd’s voice is sleep-rough and Stiles wants to melt.

“Yeah. Thanks.” Stiles tries to figure out what he wants to say next, but Boyd beats him to it.

“We didn’t do anything, if that makes you feel better. You were too drunk, and I’m not into people who can’t consent.”

Stiles tries and fails to hide his disappointment. He hadn’t thought about Boyd like that before, but now he can’t _stop_ thinking about it. The werewolf is warm and solid and very naked pressed all down Stiles’ back, arm moving to pet Stiles along his face and neck, thumb catching at his pulse, feeling it jump as Stiles lies to himself.

“But you did, um, want to, right? Do stuff? Because no offense dude but if you don’t stop touching me stuff is going to happen.”

Boyd just lets his fingers dance lower, down to Stiles’ hips and over the swell of his ass, giving the softest of laughs into the back of Stiles’ neck. The vibrations force a sound out of Stiles that he isn’t proud of.

He catches Boyd’s hand before it finds the ticklish backs of his knees and brings it up to his mouth, kissing the palm and each finger in turn. He experimentally sucks Boyd’s index finger into his mouth and when he lets go Boyd immediately brings the wet digit to Stiles’ nipple.

Stiles makes a noise he’s _really_ not proud of.

Blunt human teeth start working a hickey into the juncture of Stiles’ shoulder. Fucking possessive werewolves. He bares his neck anyways because he’s annoyed, not stupid.

Stiles catches Boyd’s hand where his teasing of Stiles’ nipple is starting to legitimately hurt and laces their fingers together, bringing their joined hands down to where he wants them most. Boyd is, thankfully, merciful, and doesn’t waste time stroking Stiles hard. He starts biting at Stiles’ earlobe and Stiles is loving it, but he wants to reciprocate. He quick grabs the lube from the drawer of his nightstand, because he can totally plan ahead, and wiggles around to face Boyd for the first time that morning.  

Boyd’s expression is unreadable, as many of Boyd’s expressions are, but Stiles thinks it leans more towards the positive than the negative. The werewolf grabs Stiles by his hips and slots their legs together and _oh_ Boyd is a big boy. Stiles could have guessed that, because Boyd is big all over and proportions are a thing, but feeling the full length of his hard cock sliding up against Stiles’ thigh, well that gives Stiles ideas.

Ideas like, ‘is that thing gonna fit?’ and then he thinks ‘well assuming Boyd even wants to be on top _please let him want to be on top_ ’ and ‘god could I get it in my mouth?’ Stiles gets a little lost in thoughts of worshipping at the altar that is Vernon Boyd’s gorgeous dick until Boyd shakes him a little.

“Not backing out are you Stilinski?”

“No! God no. Please please please don’t think I want out I just…you’re just…”

Boyd smirks. He totally knows what’s up, the smarmy bastard.

“Gonna fuck you till you can’t walk,” Boyd promises, and Stiles is 1000% on board with this plan.

Stiles gives Boyd the lube and after Boyd coats his fingers he spends a long time playing with Stiles’ balls, rolling them in his hand, making them shiny and slick. Usually when Stiles does it he’s too busy playing with his cock or his hole to much care about what’s in between but Boyd has some serious magic fingers because Stiles doesn’t think he’s ever felt this good in his life.

By the time Boyd presses a thick finger to Stiles’ entrance Stiles is completely out of it, panting into Boyd’s chest and trying his best not to let it be over right then. He bears down when Boyd pushes in and _Boyd is a big boy_. God, if that’s just a finger…

Boyd finds his prostate right away, then spends all his time teasing just around it, until Stiles has tears in his eyes. He might accidentally claw at Boyd’s back a little, but Boyd seems to like it, as he starts playing with Stiles’ rim, rubbing it and pushing it between thumb and finger.

Stiles can only hold on for dear life and take whatever Boyd wants to give him, trying not to make kitten noises as he does.

A second finger makes its way into the mix at some point, and Stiles thinks wildly that he couldn’t possibly take a third, apparently voicing this aloud because Boyd shushes him and lets him know that, yes, Stiles can and will take another one if he just relaxes. Boyd slides his fingers in and out, slowly, rhythmically, fucking Stiles until the burn fades away and Stiles is left with his whole world consisting of just those maddening fingers.

Boyd is losing a little of his coordination now, because he starts accidentally hitting Stiles’ sweet spot about every third thrust, or maybe that’s on purpose Stiles doesn’t even know anymore. Boyd’s other hand is stroking gently down Stiles’ back, occasionally up through his hair, rubbing at the hickey to make it bruise more visibly. He’s saying something that Stiles can’t make out, until he realizes that Boyd is asking permission to go ahead with that third finger. Stiles thinks he’s probably making a mistake, but he nods, nose rubbing against Boyd’s chest.

“Just, go slow ok?”

Boyd does his best, but it hurts all the same. Once he’s got it in he stills and waits for Stiles to give him the ok, reaching up to wipe away a tear Stiles didn’t know he’d let fall.

“Fuck. Boyd. Touch me or something, distract me a little.” Boyd reaches between them and indulges Stiles.

It takes longer to adjust than Stiles probably would admit, should anyone come up to him and ask about it (Stiles you doofus no one is going to do that), but slowly, increment by increment, Stiles relaxes back onto Boyd’s fingers, letting them curl inside him, stroke his prostate, tease his rim. Boyd keeps stroking Stiles’ cock and Stiles opens and closes his hands over Boyd’s biceps, seeking purchase.

Eventually, Boyd can move properly, and after spending a bit getting Stiles used to what it feels like, they both come to the silent agreement that Stiles is ready for more.

Boyd’s cock isn’t thicker than his fingers were, but it’s longer. When he thrusts in Stiles just feels it going and going and going, like he’s got some kind of dick energizer bunny thing going on down there (not sexy Stiles, he admonishes himself). What _is_ sexy is the sigh of pleasure Boyd makes when he bottoms out, and the way he wraps his arms around Stiles in a relatively chaste hug, considering the other ways in which their bodies are joined.

They kiss then. It’s a little more morning breathy than Stiles would usually enjoy, but Boyd makes up for it in technique, fucking Stiles’ mouth in a pretty good approximation of what he’s gonna do to Stiles’ ass as soon as Stiles can handle it. Stiles gives as good as he gets, pulling on Boyd’s bottom lip and sucking on his tongue whenever Boyd slides it into Stiles’ mouth.

Boyd gives a tiny experimental thrust. Nope. No. Stiles isn’t ready yet, and he hurries to tell Boyd this crucial information.

For all that the werewolf is kind of an asshole in most situations, he’s an incredibly tender lover. He kisses Stiles’ eyelashes and runs soothing hands down his back and tells him that they’ll take as long as Stiles needs.

The next thrust is better, and the one after that even better, Boyd not pulling out more than an inch or so, letting Stiles rock into him.

“Would this be more comfortable if you turned around again?” He asks.

Stiles considers it. “I think it might, yeah.”

Boyd pulls out all the way, Stiles letting loose a loud groan, half pleasure and half pain as he does. They shift so they’re spooning again, and Boyd adds more lube before he presses into Stiles once more. Oh yeah, this is much better.

Stiles hitches his leg up so Boyd can get a better angle, and the werewolf doesn’t start so much thrusting as rolling his hips against Stiles, something halfway between sex move and dance move. It’s unbearably hot, and combined with the way Boyd is stroking down his arms and tracing patterns into his precome-sticky pubic hair Stiles almost can’t handle the sheer _intimacy_ of it all.

He feels a bit…girlish. But it’s hot. It’s Boyd. And in this moment Boyd can do no wrong. Stiles leans his head back against Boyd’s shoulder and hums out his appreciation. Boyd takes it as his cue to speed up a bit and Stiles is ready for it, now. Stiles reaches down to clasp their hands together over his stomach and lets his eyes flutter closed to more thoroughly enjoy the feel of Boyd’s hot length nudging his prostate with every upward movement.

Stiles is so relaxed that he doesn’t even register that he’s about to come until it washes over him, reaching down to his curled toes. Boyd turns his head to kiss Stiles’ cheek, bringing their hands down to play in the mess, wiping some of it over Stiles’ lips.

Boyd apparently has the patience or the stamina of a damn porn star though, because even after Stiles goes soft Boyd keeps going, which is forever going to be a fantasy of his after this. Stiles is so pliant that Boyd can just position him however he likes, take things as fast or as slow as he wants and all Stiles can do is receive.

After a while, Stiles gets an idea.

“Hey Boyd, do you wanna come on my face, maybe?”

Boyd stills. “You’d let me do that?”

“Yeah I think I’m into it. Can’t hurt to try at any rate, plus I’m getting a bit over sensitive, it’s kinda messing up my afterglow.”

“Sorry. I’ll just. Yeah hold on.” Boyd carefully pulls out, bodily shifting Stiles down the bed so Boyd can kneel at the head of it, jerking off over Stiles’ face.

Stiles opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue, lips still shiny with his own come.

The sight of Stiles like that must do it for Boyd, because it doesn’t take him much longer. Stiles closes his eyes as Boyd grunts and the first warm streaks of white hit Stiles’ cheeks. Some does get in his mouth, and there’s even a little in his hair, but Stiles just thinks that that means he can convince Boyd into having shower sex later. The last two spurts are lower, on his chest, and Boyd makes a half-heard comment about Stiles’ pretty tits.

When all is quiet, Stiles opens his eyes to grin up at Boyd, his face a complete wreck. Boyd looks…a little awed. Like he can’t believe Stiles really just let him do that. Well that makes two of them. Stiles sits up to give the tip of Boyd’s cock the lightest kiss, then Boyd sits down to kiss Stiles’ sticky mouth. He rubs his come into Stiles’ face and chest, totally doing a scent marking thing Stiles knows, but if Boyd wants the pack to know that Stiles is _his_ , well, Stiles is ok with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
